Walking Across Egypt
by Sweet-rush37
Summary: Woody might not have problems, but he has demons, and maybe him confronting his horrors, might convince Jordan to confront her own. Finished... Last Chapter REVAMPED
1. Waking up in autumn

Title: Walking across Egypt

Author: Jenna Nelson

Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan, if I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfic's on my really slow computer on a Sunday afternoon.... I'd be chill'n with Jerry and Jill at universal studio's.

Note: Okay, this is the lowdown on 'Walking across Egypt' I know I'm crazy for writing two fan fictions at the same time but it wouldn't leave me alone. I wrote a fanfic on a CJ fanfic site, can't remember the name right now, but I will after I post. Anyhow, I did this fanfic called 'And the sea will tell." Never finished it, too many inconsistencies in my writing, it was kind of sloppy, so I'm writing a fan fiction extremely similar to it now, and, congratulations your reading it

**_For Sasha_**

Woody swirled the drink in his hand absentmindedly, his mind a million miles away. The Pouge was littered with people, people of all different shapes and sizes, colors and backgrounds. It had seemed so long ago he had left Kewaunee twelve hundred dollars in his pocket and a trunk full of boxes, a small bit of memories packed into the back of a truck, to leave the bad memories behind, to chase after them, just a step behind.

"Woody, you okay." A voice asked behind him, he didn't glance back, knowing who it was. He guzzled the last of his beer before answering, swallowing his thoughts with the frosty beverage.

"Yeah, I'm fine Jo, just tired that's all." She sat herself down on the barstool next to him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder; she could feel him tense beneath her gentle touch. She sighed and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Woody I miss you." She said almost mutely, her eyes looking up at his face.

"What are you talking about crazy woman, I'm right here." He muttered giving her a small smile, the biggest his thoughts would allow.

"No your not, what's the matter, you haven't been the same since the Sullivan case... you've been sad, now, tell me what's the matter before a take away your beer rights, what is it." She teased, yet her honey eyes were serious.

"Nothings the matter, I'm fine, leave me alone." The way he said it, it wasn't mean, he just sounded, suggestive, well to Jordan it sounded suggestive, but who was she to listen to anyone else?

"Come on Farm boy, tell me." She persisted; suddenly he stood, gathered his coat and made a hasty exit.

"What the hell is the matter with you!" she shouted, chasing after him.

"don't you ever give up?" he half shouted.

"I thought you'd know me better by now Hoyt, I don't give in." she threw him a lopsided grin. He backed up, not even a ghost of a smile appeared on his face, he looked towards the sky irritably and groaned.

"Jordan, don't." he warned as she slinked closer to him, poking him in the ribs playfully.

"come on, I know you want to smile... smile," with a jab to the ribs, he smiled, backing up, he quickly caught himself.

"I'm a homicide detective damnit!" he shouted, she backed up quickly, swallowing a laugh.

"You know what Jo, I think I'm just going to go home... numb out, spend some time alone, see you tomorrow." He mussed her hair playfully before climbing into his car and speeding away.

Jordan watched Woody drive off, she felt an eerie sense of inevitability wash over her, a sick sadness that crept up on her unexpectedly, what was he hiding. She missed his sunny smile, playful banter and harmless flirting, she missed her friend, maybe she had to face the fact that things do change. Maybe he had changed, maybe things could never be the same. She hated that word, Change, it meant that the familiar and safe would be interrupted and altered before they knew it. He had a secret, she could feel it in her heart, and she had to find out.

Scrambling back into the bar, grabbed her purse and keys.

"Hey Bozz." She yelled to the temporary she had hired after her father left.

"Yeah Cavanaugh?" he responded from across the room where he was taking a young ladies order.

"I'm leaving, don't give anything out on credit." She ordered and ran out of the Pouge without any explanation.

The stars sparkled in the night sky, glittering down on the city of Boston like windows into another world, off somewhere, watching as earth glittered down on them. Jordan noticed the direction he was going, he was going home, where it was safe,

The night was clear, yet it seemed the autumn had snuck up on her, she didn't notice the crisp oranges, rustic reds, and bland browns the leaves had turned, in that drive it seemed she had noticed more than she ever had in a lifetime. She noticed the way the trees swayed in the breeze, the way the air smelled, salty and brisk, like the ocean that wasn't that far off. The way people walked when they were happy, the way they walked when they were drowning in sorrow.

She pulled up behind his car in front of his apartment building, his light was on, she could see his shadow, black against the glare of his lamp. She only needed to find the courage to go upstairs and talk to him, she had this sickening feeling he was running, maybe not physically, but emotionally, he was screaming for help.

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He pulled the crumpled photograph out of his pocket, smoothing out the edges with his fingers, hoping to smooth out all the wrinkles in his life. Somehow he thought they were supposed to live for so much more. Maybe second chances really didn't exsist, maybe he wasn't meant to know what it felt like to have some siblance of love in his life at all. In the end he knew it didn't matter that she was dead, or the fact he was so alone. What mattered was right now, and right now, he had no where to go.

A brick wall, he had just hit a very large brick wall, he was cornered and alone. Feeling the affects of the beer, he laid down on his couch. Not taking his eyes from the photograph in front of him. She was perfect, his pillar, she was the reason he had stayed a cop, when he knew that he would lose everything he had worked for. She looked so small in her school uniform, out in the snow, her tan messenger bag sitting carelessly next to her. Her smile, wide and happy, her dimples, her eyes glowing in some momentary excitement.

She existed now only in his memory, a little girl in a photograph that no longer lived, no longer sat on his lap as they watched the sun sink down under the earth. She used to tell him her 'theories' she had a million, stupid little theories that seemed so illogical, yet, she was completely certain that they would come true.

'I guess when your seven everything can get better, nothing is completely unfixable.' He thought to himself, taking another sip of his corona. Slowly he stood, slipping the photo back into his pocket, he wandered to his closet, he knew he didn't want to see what was inside, but he couldn't stop himself. Something told him the key to his freedom was in that box, sitting forgotten on his closet shelf, waiting to be opened.


	2. A Brand, A Scar, A dream, A nightmare

It had been so long, he wiped the dust from the top of the old trunk, he lifted it, what was inside, was his life, a life that ended tragically on a frosty November morning in 1997. She was his light, he would sit with her, watching the sun melt into the earth, sending shards of green, baby blues, dusty pinks and glowing lavender across the sky. She used to tell him that dusk was her favorite time of the day, because, it was that still moment as the sun dipped below the horizon , and the sky turned purple-black, when time stopped, and everything stopped. He had agreed with her fully, for a seven year old she was amazingly adapt to know how the world worked, she understood things better than him sometimes.

His life was crammed into this tiny box, a hair clip, a pillow, a slew of pictures, she loved to draw, she'd draw anything, everything. And his most prized possession. A music box. He slowly pulled the key from under his dress shirt, slipped the gold chain from around his neck, the key to his heart. Slowly he slid it into its place, the keyhole at the bottom.

He cranked it slowly, listening to the matalic sound the key made as in wound up the music. He unlatched the latch, and opened the small wooden box. His life came rushing out, as he listened to the chime of the melody. He remembered it all when he heard that music, the scent of her hair, the sound of her laugh, how it felt when she tugged him down the street toward the park, yelling at him for being so slow.

She was his Dakota, Kody for short, only seven when she died, yet her life seemed so fulfilling, like she was a iron angel, come down to earth to teach everyone she knew the meaning of what it was to be happy.

He put the music box down, as he moved on to the pillow, slowly he brought it up to his nose. He could almost hear her small voice, so lifelike, so real, he could see her sitting next to him.

"You know you can't smell me on that old thing." She stated, bobbing her blonde head with simple conviction. He knew she wasn't there, she was dead, right?

"Yes... yes, I can, it smells like your... strawberry shampoo... like your strawberry." He stopped himself when he realized he was alone in his closet, on the floor, still in his dress shirt and tie. In Boston, alone, so alone.

He allowed his mind to drift back to Kewaunee, to Tiffanee, and Kody. Tiffany, his sweet young bride... they were both seventeen, he had gotten her pregnant, so they had no choice. He was going to the academy, when, she was born. So little, small and pink, for some reason he had the hardest time imagining that he created that little bawling girl, out in the world without any protection in the world.

Tiffany had a job as a checkout girl in the local piggly wiggly, not a dream job, but it helped pay the bills. He moonlighted at a tire factory, when he came home, Tiffany and Kody were waiting for him. When he became a cop, Kody was so excited, beaming, telling everyone "My daddy's a peace officer." He looked down at the picture glued to the bottom of that music box. It was Kody, with her arm around his neck, wearing his uniform hat. He was only a beat cop, bottom of the totem poll. He was always careful, he vowed that no matter what, he was coming home to her. Then with a simple phone call his life was left shattered and broken on a bathroom floor, his happy ending never happened.

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Jordan sat in her car, the night enveloping her like a blanket. She couldn't muster enough courage to even get out of her car. Why did he seem so far away? What was it about November that sent him into a tailspin. Often she wondered what had happened to him that caused those quiet November evenings where for hours on end he sat silent in the back of the bar, swirling his drink around, his sapphire eyes staring at the floor, holding a key in his hand, tightly, as if someone was preparing to take it away. She sighed, she told him that he had no problems, she told him he was well adjusted, now she wasn't so sure, there was something he wasn't telling her, a secret, he didn't trust her with... she had to know, maybe not tonight, but she would get it out of him. She turned on her car and drove away, leaving him and his secrets behind.


	3. Jordan stands still

The leaves churned in the wind, sending a slew of red and yellow flying threw the cold, November air. He wished he could see those blue eyes again, just touch her face, hear her laugh. It felt like it had been so long since he had felt anything, pain, grief, happiness. But for some reason, when he looked at Jordan, when he brushed up against her, when he overheard her name, it all seemed to make sense, things seemed to look up.

He looked down at his Chinese take out, this sick sense of guilt ran threw his veins. Tonight he pushed her away, like she had done so many times to him, just tossed her aside like last weeks TV guide. He looked at the week old take out and winced, he was become a cliché, he came home every night, picked which take out was right for the Sox came on ESPN. He looked around his apartment as if for the first time. A swirl of pain rose to his heart, no remnants of his daughter, no pictures in his apartment, no teddy bear on the couch, nothing to suggest he had even been married, let alone had a daughter.

He heaved up off of the couch and staggered towards his entertainment center, where a picture of Jordan and himself sat discarded and forgotten. He smiled, she loved him wether she would admit it or not. He was going to save her, while she was still saveable, he'd help her overcome her demons and nightmares, and in a way save himself as well. Slowly he dialed her number on the telephone, reciting them from memory.

"Cavanaugh." She said softly, his courage almost fled.

"Hey." Was all he could muster.

"What?!" she asked playfully, "is this about earlier."

"W-What? Oh, uh, No... yeah, sort of, just was wondering if you were busy, I have something to tell you." He stuttered almost blindly, his fingers crossed she would tell him she'd be right over, he was more important than what was going on now.

"Sure, I'll be right over Farm Boy." She replied, he could almost see her lopsided grin, a grin that could make his heart melt.

"O-Okay, uh, great! See you in a few." He whispered nervously.

"Woody?" she asked as an afterthought.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay." After a long pause, he whispered, almost undefinable, his voice shaking.

"No, No Jordan I'm not."

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She sat for a long time in her El Camino, just pondering what he had just said. _No Jordan I'm not. _Those words still hung thick in her mind like a sightless fog. What had happened that had caused this sudden pain to fill his every thoughts. She had known that pain well, losing her mother had almost killed her several times. She knew what it was like to feel that stabbing pain of loosing something you love more than life itself, it hurt so much she could barely breathe at times.

Little did Woody know she was half a block away, she wasn't sure why she had driven away, maybe so she wouldn't get to envolved...maybe to give him space, or maybe she was reading too much into a small action. Whatever reason, she suddenly felt like she had betrayed him in some grand scheme of something. He made her nervous, her hands sweat, her mind dizzy. He made her contemplate a different path, he made her think forward instead of backward. Pulling up once again behind her car, this time without hesitation she climbed out of the car. Trudging up the stairs, desprite to get out of the frigid north Atlantic winter wind. She quickly knocked on his door, fluffing her coat up.

When he opened the door, he smiled, and to her surprise wrapped his strong arms around her. Those arms, they felt so... familiar, yet... distant. When he reliesed her she saw the bottles of beer and Chinese boxes strewed across his studio apartment. His hair was mussed, since she last saw him, he seemed to age a thousand lives.

"Wood, you wanted to talk?" she asked in a small voice.

"That was quick." He stated, raising an eyebrow.

"I was right outside." She said before she could stop herself. "I Mean, I wasn't RIGHT outside, but I was, outside, down the street." He raised his eyebrow, but smiled, allowing her to come inside.

"I wanted to show you something," he whispered, "But I can't show you now, we have to wait for dawn." He said softly, in a whisper like it was a huge secret.

"Why?" she asked skeptically, taking off her coat and mittens, tossing a beer bottle off of the couch to take a seat.

"Because it won't work at any other times than dusk or dawn." He whispered once again. "So how about a game of Yahtzee and Pizza?" he asked, plopping down next to her.

"Yahtzee and pizza sounds great." She announced with a enthusiastic voice.

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Seven hours, 5 games of Yahtzee and three pizza's later they sat on his floor laughing breathlessly. Suddenly Woody smiled, the sky was turning dusty violet, as the sun began to creep from its hiding place.

"Come on." He grabbed her coat and opened the door to his small balcony. She took her coat, as he disappeared for a moment only to return with blankets and two cups of coffee.

Soon they were snuggled close together on a bench, looking up at the colors streaked across the sky, the cold bit angrily at their noses, but they felt warm right threw, the coffee was part of it, and some thing else neither of them had ever felt before. It was like the filler that filled the gap of who they were and who they could be, how it is and how it should be.

"Okay, what do we need to see that's so important?" she asked sarcastically.

"Look." He whispered, giving a vast sweep of his hand across the sky, painted with light.

"What?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you know ants can live fourteen days in water?" he asked randomly, softly, distantly.

"What?" she stipulated "why are you talking crazy?"

"you know, someone once told me that time doesn't always just keep going, that, there is this still moment right before the sunrises and right before the sun sets. In that still moment, every thing goes silent... and if you close your eyes and hold your breath, you can almost hear God breathing." He whispered with the same softness, his eyes grazing the Boston Skyline as it awoke from night, his eyes glazed with some sick worry. Slowly she closed her eyes, and stopped breathing. And it all fell quiet, and somehow stagnant. When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking up at Woody, and his icy blue eyes down at her, slowly, softly, she brushed her lips against his. He responded, melted a little as she deepened the kiss. But to her astonishment it wasn't her that pulled away first, like it had been for so long. It was him.


	4. Sleep come softly, Amen

Jordan looked at him with confusion, her eyes searching his almost frantically. "Woody, I thought this is what you wanted?" she asked softly, he nodded understatedly but never met her eyes.

"I do... I do Jo, more than anything... but not now, not right now." His voice had a pleading tone. "I have something to tell you, and you have to promise that you won't get mad..."

"What?" she asked, rubbing his arm soothingly. "you can tell me." A solitary tear fell down his face, his chin quivered ever so slightly but she saw it.

"When I lived in Kewaunee, I was married." He whispered softly.

"really? To Annie?" she knew that he had left Kewaunee because of his girlfriend, but he said girlfriend, not wife. He shook his head sadly, his bottom lip trembling.

"Her name was Tiffany... she had, she had indigo eyes, just like my little girl." Jordan's eyes bulged, little girl? He had a daughter, she nearly choked on her tounge.

"Little girl?" she asked mutely. "You have a daughter, why didn't you tell me?" his voice turned distant, and faint.

"I did have."

"Did have?"

"yeah, her name was Kody, she was seven." He whispered, staring out at the waking city. "she was standing on the sidewalk, waiting for me... it was my fault... I was late, I should have been there to pick her up... she wasn't even suppose to be there," He babbled.

"Woody, calm down, slow down and tell me what happened." Jordan demanded, petting his head softly.

"She was waiting for me... it was nine thirty two at night, and she was just getting out of a karate practice... I was just getting off of work, and I was late... and she was waiting for me... oh, god it's my fault... she was standing on the sidewalk when out of nowhere comes this faded red SUV, he was drunk... and he drove up on the curb... she was in the way..." another tear fell down his face. "It was my fault." His last words were so soft she could barely hear them. She wrapped her arm around him and kissed his forehead.

"Listen to me Wood, this was not your fault, it was the person who chose to drive drunk's fault... don't do this to yourself. Suddenly Jordan felt what Woody must have felt all that time, like she was on the outside looking in on him. She could hear him at all, not a sob, not even a whimper... he just silently cried on her shoulder, his chin resting ever so softly, taking in the smell of her shampoo. Fragments of memories flashed before his eyes. Like grainy home videos, all indistinct and choppy. She was so beautiful, spinning around happily in the fountain at the center of town. Her hair in wet clumps down her back, her eyes shining blissfully. Her nose was perfect, he thought to himself, it sloped down gently, it was so picturesque, just like her.

Jordan's hands were wrapped around his back, calmly he draped his arms around her neck, he missed talking to her, being able to be there for her, just be there. Some days be wished he could read what went threw her mind at times. And maybe if hearts were unbreakable he could ask her. The wind picked up, blowing her hair into his face. Neither one of them wanted to move, so they didn't, they just sat like that for what seemed like forever, while this broken images ran threw his mind.

He could remember what if felt like to stand in the doorway of that hospital, his little girl lying lifeless in the bed, the white sheets swallowing her small body. He remembered telling her that daddy was there, and he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He remembered the doctor telling him there was nothing he could do... it was no use.

He remembered how cold the room felt.

"What happened to Tiffany?" Jordan asked as she pulled away.

"She blamed me, without are little girl there was no reason for her to stay with me... three months later she filed for divorce." He rubbed his hand threw his hair tiredly, "Jordan I miss Kody." He whispered like a child.

"I know Woody, I know you do." She reassured him, a tear running down her face.

"When does the pain stop?" he mumbled, looking her in the eyes.

"When it does I'll let you know." She answered, stroking his hair. Jordan couldn't look at him, not when he was like this, he was so weak, so venerable. She didn't know this Tiffany, but she had to be a real charmer, Woody lost his daughter and his wife in a three month time period. She now only knew how alone he was, no family, no friends, in a strange town far from home... she had felt that way many times, running had been her specialty, when things got bad, she'd just get up and take off as she could to where it was safe to breath. Now, not a forklift nor crowbar could take her away from Woody. She sat there for the longest time just stroking his hair. All those years, all the hours, all of the sweat, all the tears, everything it had cost her searching for her mothers murder suddenly didn't seem to matter, in fact none of it did.

All of those times that she had pushed him away, all of the times she had almost cost him his job. He still stayed with her, he remained during her tears, all of the emotional pain and suffering. He remained, he'd always remain, with her, forever.

"Woody, I can promise you it will get better, just... I don't know how, I just know, one day, everything will be okay." Her voice broke, he could feel her heart beating, threw her voice, he could hear her as that ten year old girl, scared and alone. He held on to her tight as if she would disappear, at times he was scared she would, that she was just a figment of his imagination. He gave a long shuddering sigh and stood, when he stood up, she noticed that he had lost weight, his tie was loosened, and stubble graced his jaw. She noticed for the first time that his belt was notched tighter than usual. He looked like death, like he was awake but not there, the way he just stood staring, his eyes boring into the heavens... searching desperately for the life he had lost so many years ago. He looked so fragile; she wondered why he was still alive anymore? For some reason she wanted to scream at him, shout at him, tell him he could talk to her, she was there, she would always be here.

She was lying to herself. He couldn't trust her, not anymore than he could trust Satan. She knew the reason he hadn't told her, he couldn't trust her, she would run, and run far away, then where would he be. Alone, in a strange city, with the one person he could talk to a million miles away.

It made her miss him so bad, the innocents of him, the way he smelled when he leaned close to her. The wind blew up and he shivered, it looked as if he was a skeleton about to fall over.

"Woody lets go inside... its freezing out here."

She guided his half dead frame over to the couch, taking a deep breath, and a good look around, she saw his whole life crammed into a small studio apartment. And his eyes... oh, his eyes, how she wished that she could feel them look down on her again with his crystalline blue irises, they way they looked, sweet and ingenuous. He never let her fall, not ever, it was her turn.

He nodded silently when she demanded that they go inside, truth was he was desperate for warmth, any kind of warmth, and coming from Jordan, it was all the sweeter. She led him to the couch and set him down as if he were a china doll, about to shatter, she came in with a warm washcloth and washed away any remnants of tears that had stained his cheeks. Like she was filling in the cracks of his life, despite to keep him from shattering in front of her.

He suddenly saw how venerable she was, she looked like hell itself, dark circles under her eyes, she hadn't been sleeping. He wanted greatly to take that sad look off her face, just be back on the balcony and holding her in his arms.

"Jordan?" he asked, taking her hand softly in his.

"hmmm?" she asked distracted, taking care of him.

"How about a nap?"

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"Woodrow? Woodrow? I have the Sullivan files finished!" a English voice yelled doggedly from the hallway, to Woody's half open door. Nudging in open cautiously, and peering around, justifying walking into the empty apartment with a shout "It was already open!" he glanced around the room, pizza boxes and a half finished Yahtzee game. Then he saw it... them.

Jordan and Woody on the couch, fully clothed, she was lying on top of him, her hand wrapped up in his, her petite head resting on his strong chest. Nigel smiled to himself.

"Its about time love, its about time." With that he walked out of the room, setting the files down and closing the door softly behind him.

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Note: Forgive any spelling errors please writing this at like three in the morning.


	5. Motionless

When Jordan awoke, she wasn't sure where she was, looking up she quickly remembered where she was, and settled into Woody's arms. She could hear his heart beating underneath his dress shirt, steady, lub-dub, lub-dub. So unremitting, like him. She was sound asleep, his breathing even. The light swam through the window, and played on Woody's sleeping face. She could feel his pain the night before, she could remember what it was like to be that scared, so scared you couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He had fought a long, hard battle, and he had the scars to prove it. Slowly and carefully she peeled herself from his arms, with painstaking care, she made coffee as silently as she could. Soon the house was filled with the aroma of the spicy, black liquid.

Silently she made her way to the shower, she was ready to cleanse and rejuvenate herself from the filth of the day before. She turned on the hot water, watching the way rush by. She loved taking showers, they gave her time to think, in complete silence. Slowly she peeled her clothes away and climbed into his shower, allowing the steamy water to flow over her head, it always had a calming effect on her. She thought of how scared Woody must have been, his daughter dead, his wife far away. And him, forever trying to prove he was good enough, without warning tears began to wash down her face.

Why did he stay with her? He never had too, he had his own problems, things to deal with. Yet he willing pulled himself into all of her theories and rampages. She had nearly got him fired on more than one occasion and still he helped her, even if it cost him his job, his life or both.

She climbed out of the shower and dressed quickly. She poured herself a mug of strong, black coffee. Taking one more look at Woody's sleeping figure. He hadn't moved since she slipped out from under his arms, his arm resting on his stomach, his face turned to the right slightly. His tie was loosened, and his dress shirt unbuttoned. It was then she noticed what hung from his fingers limply, a pink hair barrette, small and plastic.

His cheek was soft against her lips when she kissed him goodbye. She didn't know what had attracted him to her, he was just this hick kid from Kewaunee Wisconsin. Nothing special as far as Detectives go, but he had this talent for reading her, she couldn't deny.

And she loved him, no matter what she did, she couldn't deny that fact. He was the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. He was the song that would lull her to sleep every night for the rest of her life. She could hear his voice, how it trembled when he spoke of Kody. Kody, what a name, how it rolled off of his tounge, smooth as silk. He loved saying it.

As she walked down the street, coffee in hand, hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. She found herself noticing things she had never noticed before. They way that children laughed as they walked down the street. She noticed the birds, she noticed the way the trees wafted threw the wind, the way the old, rotten leaves floated to the ground, gently.

When she reached the morgue, she felt satisfied that, that building was wear she belonged. She felt the warm love for the people inside of it, Nigel, Bug, Garret, Lily, Peter, even Devan, even if jealousy got the best of her sometimes. These people were her family, they watched her back. She rode the elevator up with a new revolution. She wasn't upset that the elevator was too slow, or that the patriots had lost. For the first time since she was ten, the world seemed... bearable, because someone understood her. And when those doors opened, with a chime, she was ready, for everything.

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Woody awoke alone. At first he thought Jordan being there was just a dream, she had never slept close to him. This was all just a dream and he awoke alone. He was used to awaking alone, for the most part, it had never bothered him before now. Now he felt his world had just tilted and he was shaken off his footing. Then he saw the used towel folded neatly on his kitchen chair. And the stale coffee in his coffee machine. She had been there, he could still smell her perfume, like the smell of a candy shop on a Sunday afternoon. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. He noticed his answering machine blinking _1_ over and over. He pressed play, and immediately grinned when he heard Jordan's voice.

"Hey Farm boy, I just didn't want you to wake up and have no clue where I was. I am at work and it is eight thirty nine in the morning. After intense interrogation by Lily and Bug, Nigel explained that I fell asleep at your apartment, I have a message from him that the Sullivan file is on your coffee table by the September issue of guns & ammo. Anyways, Garret is about to have a coronary because I am due in autopsy. Some guy killed himself by jumping off a bridge, I won't be able to eat hamburger meat for a month. I wanted to know if I could come over for dinner tonight, my treat, uh, give me a call when you wake up... I'll talk to you later." He smiled, she always knew just what to say to make him smile.

Picking up the phone and called her, telling her dinner would be great, they were back to that awkward, slightly uncomfortable phase that they were at when they we're tracking down that sickboy23 character two years earlier. It surprised him how much they had grown since then, both of them.

Then he found himself dialing another familiar number, one he never pictured himself dialing again in a million years.

He wasn't sure why he was calling Tiffany, he didn't know what he was going to say, but for some reason he craved to hear her voice, a voice he hadn't heared in over five years.

"Hello?" she said softly, drowsily, he almost lost his courage. She sounded the same, the same, soft voice, same lilting, baby voice he used to hunger after.

"Hey." He whispered, he could almost hear her sit upright.

"Woody?!" she stipulated in surprise. "What are you calling for?" he could hear a man ask her who it was groggily, she dismissed him with a "its no one honey, no one at all." It made him laugh bitterly when he heard that. She dismissed him almost as easily as Annie did. "What?" she demanded, her baby voice rising an octave.

"I'm not sure." By now he was lacing the pink barrett threw his sweaty fingers nervously. "I just needed to hear your voice once more... that's all Tiff." He could hear her laugh resentfully with a indelicate snort.

"Well you heard it." With that she hung up.

Woody slid to the ground, still coiling the barrett. He felt... sad, and somehow released from the iron grip that had him held for so long. Although he wasn't sure why, he missed Tiffany. Not in the way, he missed her as his wife, for he no longer thought of her that way. No, he missed the mother of his daughter, he missed her laugh, he missed her eyes.

He wanted his daughter back; he wanted to see her face. He stared at the light streaming threw the blinds and chuckled bitterly, he didn't need anything else, lying down on his kitchen floor, he prayed, God take him, just spare his daughter.


	6. Trapped inside

Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan, nor do I own 'Time after Time.' by Cyndi Lauper

Woody got up, he had to go on, go to work. Each day was becoming increasingly harder to live, to breath. Since his conversation with Tiffany, he had contemplated more about ending his suffering than he had ever. She moved on, she had a new life, and had forgotten about her old life, her husband, her daughter. Forgetting him was one thing, but their daughter, he would never allow. She would not be forgotten. He had said goodbye to life so long ago, yet it stuck with him, like a broken record, telling him to go home, he didn't belong here. But the only problem was, he didn't have anywhere else to go.

Home had no place for him, no room, he would be a nomad forever, despritely seeking shelter from the cold and ice. As he dressed for work, neat as a pin, as always Dress shirt, tie, jacket. He stared at himself in the full length mirror, he tried to remember her, the scent of her hair. It smelled like baby shampoo, all soft and zesty at the same time. He closed his eyes and it was as if the scent filled the room. And when he opened his eyes, slowly, he could see her there, smiling up at him.

"Hi daddy!" she said with enthusiasm.

"Hey Princess, what are you doing?" he said faintly, brushing a blonde bang out of her eyes.

"Helping you get dressed silly." She stated, climbing up onto the bed. He remembered now, she used to tie his tie for him, every morning, with a giggle and a grin.

"That's impossible... you've gone away." He whispered "You've gone away..." he whispered again, his voice lowering an octave.

A part of him wanted to believe she was there, another thought he was losing his mind completely. She was dead, she wasn't coming back. He shut his eyes tight and when he opened them again she was gone, and the room was empty.

He looked at himself one more time in the mirror, his tie hung loose around his neck. He hadn't tied it yet, that was her job.

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When he stepped into the precinct he made his usual rounds, got his coffee, said his hello's. To everyone else, he hadn't changed at all, same amiable detective Hoyt. That was all he'd ever be to them, they would only scratch the surface. He sat down at his desk, his refuge, his redemption. Sticky notes were stuck to his computer monitor. Papers strewn across his desk, right where he left them the night before. He sighed, trying to make sense of the clutter. Slowly he began to type up his report for the Sullivan case, Woman beaten to death in a seedy ally. She was just some hooker, someone tried to rob her, she fought back, but they killed her. It amazed Woody how human life meant nothing to some, nobody cared, she was just some hooker.

One more look around him and he noticed that a window was open. In his entire four years at Boston PD he never once noticed that window. Now bright light swam into the office, washing the entire division in buttery, yellow, morning light.

"Morning Detective." Annie said, passing him by. She just kept walking. The story of his life.

"Morning Annie, how are you." She didn't answer, she was already down the hall, talking to Eddie Winslow.

He blew out the air in his lungs. "Great Woody how are you." He said to himself a little bitterly, jamming a pencil behind his ear, returning to his report.

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Jordan sewed up her last body of the day, man verses car. Peeling off her bloody latex gloves, and letting down her hair. It had been a long night, long day. Lily was outside in the hallway chatting with Garret animatedly. It was almost Thanksgiving, Jordan could almost smell the turkey, stuffing and gravy. She loved Thanksgiving, it was the one holiday besides Christmas that held good memories of her mother.

"Hey Love, you heading out?" Nigel asked, leather jacket on, helmet lodged under his arm.

"Yah, Nigel, let me get changed and I'll walk yah out."

A few minutes later she emerged from the locker room, dressed in a black sweatshirt and jeans. He walked along next to her, arm protectively on her elbow. It was only when they reached the parking lot that Nigel turned to her.

"Love, are you alright, you've barely said three words since we've left." He asked, concern laced his thick English brogue.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just worried about Woody, that's all." She amended, patting him on the arm affectionately.

"What's wrong with Woodrow, he seems kind of a happy bloke to me."

"That's just it, He's too happy, no one is that happy... then last night he opened up to me... and I'm worried about him... that's all."

"What happened?" he asked, stopping her.

"He told me he had a daughter." She said softly, Nigel's eyes widened in surprise.

"Had?"

"She died... God Nige, I'm such an idiot."

"Why?" he had such a confused look to his face, it made Jordan smile. But that ghost of a smile was all he caught.

"For thinking he's so one dimensional."

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Woody waited nervously on his barstool; he hadn't been back here since Max left, in fact, none of them had. Jordan had insisted she didn't want to go back there; she didn't want to see the things he left behind. Then she asked if they could go to the Pouge for dinner the night before, then that morning, truth was he was delighted to be back. This little homey bar was more of a home than anyone would ever know. A place where he could drown his sorrows. Maybe she was gathering herself, preparing a handhold before she came back, now she was ready to open herself up again.

"Hey stranger," a familiar voice said behind him.

"Jordan..." he said, very formally, in surprised her.

"So, have you ordered yet?" she asked casually, sitting down on the barstool to the right of his.

"Nab, I was waiting for you." He said flatly, handing her a menu. Bozz laughed when he saw them, both had there chins resting on their hands, elbows propped up against the bar.

"What's the score?" she asked pointing to the TV.

"4 to 4, in the 14th." He stated, she ordered them two beers and they sat comfortably in there old routine for a long time, just taking in the smell of warm beer and cigarette smoke for the longest time. Before Jordan could stop herself, she was resting her head on Woody's shoulder. 'just like old times.' She thought to herself happily.

Before long the game was over, Boston was going to the series, first time in like a hundred years. Everyone was celebrating, out in the streets. Jordan found herself giggling breathlessly at whatever Woody had said. They had danced some, it had truly been like old times, so perfectly uncomplicated, yet no Devan to complicate it, no sexual tension, no emotional walls. Just them, how it would be in the end, Woody imagined.

"Jordan, Jordan, Come dance with me." He asked as the evening wound down some, people filing out, the dance floor thinning out.

"No, Woody, I'm dead tired, please..." she begged, running a finger down tracing his jaw.

He wasn't taking no for an answer, if he was with her, he forgot all about the pain in his heart, all of the built up emotions threatening to spill over at any moment. He stuck out his bottom lip.

"Alright, its my turn to pick the song though." She stated, sliding herself over the bar to join him at the small, empty dance floor.

"Jordan, make it a slow one." He said softly.

She smiled, and pressed the buttons, holding out her hand for him to take.

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick,  
And think of you  
Caught up in circles confusion  
Is nothing new  
Flashback warm nights  
Almost left behind  
Suitcases of memories,  
Time after  
  
Sometimes you picture me  
I'm walking too far ahead  
You're calling to me, I can't hear  
What you've said  
Then you say go slow  
I fall behind  
The second hand unwinds  
  
If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time  
  
If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time  
  
After my picture fades and darkness has  
Turned to gray  
Watching through windows you're wondering  
If I'm OK  
Secrets stolen from deep inside  
The drum beats out of time  
  
If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time  
  
You said go slow  
I fall behind  
The second hand unwinds  
  
If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time  
  
If you're lost you can look and you will find me  
Time after time  
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting  
Time after time

When Jordan pulled away, she left Woody standing alone and confused in the middle of the dance floor. She moved to lock up, but she noticed he was standing in the middle of the room, just standing there, this blank look in his eyes. Staring at nothing at all. If she could only know what was running threw his mind.

He could see her again, standing in the corner, a smile that could out light the sun. her demples. He knew she wasn't there, but she kept haunting him, he couldn't help but want her to be real.

"Woody."

She startled him out of his stupor, his head shot up, and his eyes darted around in bewilderment for a moment, but settled on her.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

He swallowed hard, looking to the corner once more.

She was gone.

"Yeah. Come on, let's go."


	7. Unresolved

_Disclaimer: I do not own Crossing Jordan!_

The morgue felt bitter cold, the air hung thick and raw in the dimly lighted hallway. Woody stood awkwardly; staring at Jordan threw the clean glass window of her office. She was leaning against the back of her chair, feet propped up on her desk, file in her lap, pen in hand. Her eyes were firmly shut, her breathing even. It was well past midnight, and the halls were stark and barren. He walked ever so softly into her office, brushed a stubborn bang from her eye, immediately she awoke.

"Hey." He smiled weakly; everything he did now seemed weak to Jordan or at least tiresome.

"Hi Cowboy." she whispered, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Boring." She said flatly, setting the file down on her desk. It had been three days since they had danced at the Pouge. They had seen little of each other since, not going out of there way to speak to each other. It seemed a lifetime since Woody had confessed himself to her. Once in a while she'd drive by his apartment, just to see if he was okay. His light would be on, she would maybe see his shadow, nothing more.

"There is never a boring day with you Jo." Woody said, stroking her hair softly. He had been eager to talk to her, but within the past few days she seemed to be avoiding him.

"Jo are you mad at me?" he asked softly, she shook her head.

"Of course not, Woody what would make you think that?"

"It seems like you've been avoiding me... have you?"

"No, it's just." She paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "I thought you might want some space... that's all." He smiled, unaccountably relieved.

"Good." He stood up and held out his hand. "Then we can go for a walk." He said with a small smile. Jordan swallowed the lump in her throat and took his hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So tell me what she was like." Jordan persisted as they walked down the paved trail in the park. Night had darkened the world but everything in sight was washed in silver blue moonlight. Jordan held on tightly to her Styrofoam coffee cup, it was a source of warmth, a warmth that was dying with each second.

"Uh, she loved to draw... and be in plays, she loved horses." He looked down and smiled. "When she rode her bike... she let go of her handlebars." He was whispering now, far off in thought. "She like to climb... climb like a monkey, she could climb anything." He laughed, far off in remembrance. "She was filled with life."

Jordan wished she could go back in time and take away Woody's sadness. Just like that, just hold him and make it all go away.

"Woody I'm sorry." She blurted, stopping.

"For what?" he asked, "It's not like it's your fault."

"I know... but I'm just sorry." She whispered, on the verge of tears, she fought them back like crazy. He came over to her, brushing her hair away from her face whispered.

"Jordan, you shouldn't be apologizing, if it weren't for you I probably wouldn't have survived." His blue eyes, how clear they were. Never before had she seen them so lucid, so azure as right then. She grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him near, so she could smell him, feel his body against hers. She held him like that for the longest time, just taking in the way he smelled. After an ageless moment she released him but he didn't let go. Before long she found herself in tears, up against his strong chest, crying for what seemed no reason at all. But deep in her heart she knew the real reason, something that had been in her heart for twenty-five years was falling away, wilting away. She just sobbed and sobbed into his chest, mascara running down her face. She was weeping for the loss of her mother, the loss of her father, she was crying for Woody.

After a long time Woody set her back, looking down into her face, wiped the mascara stained tears from her white cheeks. At that moment, they both realized that they needed each other, as much as Jordan needed him, he need her as much. She stared at him for a long moment before she silently wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him one last time before letting him go, as if with that hug she was wordlessly letting go of her past, starting new.

"I have to go Woody, I have to get up early tomorrow." He nodded silently, taking hold of her elbow protectively began to walk her car. She found herself leaning into him; he wrapped his arm around her softly as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They stood at her beaten up El Camino for a long second. After what seemed forever the wind picked up, sending a rush of frigid air past them. Jordan's raven hair flew up, sending the smell of her shampoo rushing past Woody. And as the wind died, something was born, some understanding between the two people standing awkwardly at a car door.

Jordan simply leaned in and kissed him, it was soft and sweet, more comforting than anything else. Purely there lips brushed up together, she had been craving it for so long, that now it just seemed natural. When they broke apart, they looked at each other for a second.

"Goodbye Woody," Jordan whispered softly "I'll see you later." She asked kind of hopefully. He smiled wide, the first hint of a smile she had seen in a long time.

"Of course." He whispered, and then he opened her car door.

For some reason that simple gesture meant more to Jordan than anything else ever could. She smiled and got inside the car, then without looking back, she drove away.

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Jordan's headlight's cut threw the night like a hot knife threw butter, bits of disturbed pollen hung thickly in them like dust in the sun. She wasn't sure why she was going where she was going, but couldn't stop herself. The cemetery only held one memory, her mother. The bitter cold, held deep memories for her, it was on nights like these when she could hear the creaking of the porch steps as she entered that house twenty-five years before. She could feel the icy wind at her back, the way it swirled around in the house that felt so forsaken even though it was congested with people. It had been a long time coming, this feeling of hopelessness that rinsed over her. She ran her She walked, on autopilot to her mothers resting place, a cold grave on a cold night.

Running her hands down the smooth granite, fingering each letter of her mother's name.

**_Emily Cavanaugh _**

_**Dear Wife**_

**_Beloved mother_**

Tears ran down her face, pooling on her cheeks, her chin quivered, she could feel it. She had thought for the longest time that if she let go of her mother's death, she might forget her mother, and that would never happen.

It was when she stood with Woody that night, that letting go didn't mean forgetting, it just meant moving on, and remembering her for what she was, not what she could have been.

"Goodbye Mommy." She whispered, like the child that had lost her mother so long ago. Tears streamed down her face slowly as she turned and walked away. She got halfway to her car, before sobs took over and wracked her body, as she desperately fought not to look behind her, from now on it was only forward, the past was in the past. Her mother might have been gone, but certainly not forgotten.

She couldn't help it, she turned and looked back once, to see her mother once more. The grave was glinting in silver moonlight, a sea of green grass blanketed it, she wasn't cold anymore. Slowly Jordan walked to her car. It would be hard, but she could do it, she had to take baby steps.

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Woody stood in the crowded hallway, his back to the door, as the crowded precinct filled with more people by the second. From time to time he would see Kody, his little girl, in a corner or far off staring at him in the back of a crowd, but he would push her away, out of his mind, somewhere else, far away. He hadn't seen Jordan since the night before when she drove away; he craved to hear her voice, though he would never admit it. How was he supposed to go on, live, if his crutch wasn't here to support him? He thought with a rush of guilt. All he really wanted to do was see her. He found himself thinking of Tiffany of all people. It seemed like forever since he had that conversation with her, argument, he amended, and even that was a generous word for it.

When he heard her voice, he thought it was his imagination.

"Hey Woody." Her Baby voice was as soft as it had been the day they met.

He turned to meet her jade eyes slowly, his breath leaving him momentarily when he saw her. She hadn't changed a bit. She was wearing a simple white spaghetti strap shirt with jeans, a denim jacket hanging from her elbow. Her blonde hair hanging long down to the middle of her back.

"Tiffany, what are you doing?" he asked with disbelief thick in his voice.

"I came to apologize for the way I acted earlier." She said softly, running her hand down his arm.

"You could have done that over the phone." He whispered, a little angry.

"I know, but I wanted to come, to see how you were, you sounded so sad on the phone... I felt it was something that I should do." She cocked her head to the side and took sight of him, his dress shirt was a bit wrinkled, but his tie was tied, jacket and pants pressed and neat. She swallowed hard, it was his emaciated frame that had her concerned. How much weight he had lost! It looked as if she poked him he would fall over. His eyes looked drawn and hallow. She had known that Kody's death had taken a toll on him.

It had taken a toll on her as well, she had tried to kill herself once, but she pulled herself up, moved on, while he stood there, still, staring down at the wreakage of his life, what used to be their life. Not finding comfort anywhere.

He looked down, his chin trembling. "Why Tiff?" he asked softly, she knew he wouldn't cry, even if his voice cracked like it did, not here, not in front of his fellow cops.

"Why what?" she asked, keeping a safe distance from him, an arms length away.

He looked deep into her eyes, for the first time in years, his blue eyes bore into hers.

"Why do you blame me?" it seemed that question had been eating away at him since time was born.

Without a word she brushed the hair out of his face, kissed his cheek softly, and walked away. As he watched her stumble towards the door, he felt a lump gather in his throat. With a falter she turned and looked at him once more before pushing her way threw the throng of people and out the door.


	8. Twas in another lifetime

Disclaimer: I don't own crossing Jordan nor do I own "Shelter from the storm by Bob Dylan.

Note : I'd like to thank everyone who reviews on this story, I really enjoyed writing it, I realize how sadistic that sounds but I did. Also, This is the revamped version of the last chapter.

Woody paced the length of his studio apartment nervously, his palms sweaty, his hands shaking. He ignored the little girl in front of him; he knew she was just a figment of his imagination. He wanted her to be real so bad, it haunted his dreams. He saw her everywhere now, wherever he went, it was getting worse, not that he wanted her to leave, no, he wanted her there so he could see her again, even make believe she was alive. But she wasn't. a thought that continually gnawed at his brain. Each day it was becoming harder to breath, like something leaden was weighing down on his chest. He couldn't eat, he couldn't even think anymore. He was a living corpse, he was dead but breathing.

He remembered her well, the way she sang, the way she drew, the way she skipped, hopped and played. A solitary tear ran down his face. He forgot her laugh. He closed her eyes and willed her away, but when he opened his eyes she was still there, staring up at him, with those faded blue eyes.

"Hi Daddy." She said, holding out her hand.

He shook his head and closed his eyes tight, when he opened them she was gone.

Slowly he stood, walking to his desk in the corner of the room, pulling a piece of paper and a pen out from the desk drawer, he wrote her a letter, simple and short. After he was done, he crammed it into an envelope and wrote only.

_**For Jordan**_

It had seemed so long since he had met the whiskey eyed woman of his dreams. Never making it past the friend's stage, they never would. She had saved his life in every way that a person could be saved. He knew she was the only person in his life that had stayed, that was constant, a friend to lean on, someone he could count on. He slipped the letter in his Suit pocket, a place he knew she'd find it. Life had lost its luster long ago. He could see the life underneath the surface, as he picked up that bottle of pills, making his way to the balcony, sat on the cold ground to wait. He could see the sunrise, the dusty pinks and the crisp oranges bleeding together as the sun rising from below the rim of the earth. He smiled as those pills began to take affect; he was waiting for that still moment...

He held her crumpled picture in his hand for a long time. The edges were frayed and worn, he was broken and the pieces couldn't be put back together. The worst was over now.

She had gone away.

This was a long awaited answer to a long and painful fight. Maybe he could find some peace somewhere in that stillness, that grey area where life and death merge together. Like water the years drifted away, and he felt her again, he felt her life, he felt her death. He couldn't move on, he wasn't that strong. He had fallen long ago and couldn't get up again. He knew Jordan would find him, it was a matter of time, she would be fine, she was so strong. Boston moved forward, while he stood still in the past. It was cold but he couldn't feel it... he couldn't feel anything; it was so stark and barren. Then it was like her, ageless and endless, he felt he could see forever in that still moment, he could hear God breathing....

"Daddy!" he turned once more to see her, standing in the corner of the balcony, smiling. "Bye Daddy." She giggled and waved, her blue eye sparkling in some momentary excitement, he did remember her laugh, he thought to himself. And then she was gone, just like that, disappearing into the dawn. He knew, he couldn't say why, he wouldn't see her again for a very long time.

All he had left to do was wait, wait to die, to live, wait for some sort of Vindication, That would never come...

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"Hey Woody, Woody?" Jordan wrapped herself up tighter in her jacket, it was freezing in his apartment, the sliding glass door was open, his drapes were being blown about violently. Immediately she knew something was wrong. He had told her that he wouldn't be home, but she had seen his car parked outside and had decided to come and see if he wanted to grab dinner with her. She knew immediately he was there, but at the same time he wasn't there. Turning frantic she began to call out his name frantically, knowing he was outside on the veranda but to frightened to look outside. Dusk was approaching, the sun sinking below the earth, washing everything in red and orange. Slowly she slipped pasted the drapes as the blew every which way.

At first when she saw him, she thought he was alive. The way his blue eyes stared out at the horizon. Yet, they were dull and clouded over, not the friendly blue eyes she had stared into so many times. Not the eyes of the friendly detective she had always taken a bit for granted. She reached out and touched his hand, ever so faintly; he was cold, so cold. She swallowed hard and didn't cry, though she wanted to, she didn't scream. She simply sat down next to him, leaning close to his cold body, just sat there. She noticed his badge and the small, pink hair Barrett clinched in his fingers. She stared into the sunset, waiting for that still moment...

Just as the sun disappeared under the earth, she shut her eyes tight, she ceased to breath, and just listened, not with her ears but with her heart... she had never felt as close to God as she did then, just sitting there not moving, because time wasn't moving. When she opened her eyes, she began to rock back and forth, in a slow, methodical manner. And to her surprise she began to sing a song she remembered her mom used to sing to her when she was sad. The familiar melody felt so soothing.

_'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood  
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud  
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured  
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word  
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved  
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.  
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,  
Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail,  
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.   
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there  
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.  
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost  
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.  
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount  
But nothing really matters much, its doom alone that counts  
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove  
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.  
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes  
I bargained for salvation an' they gave me a lethal dose.  
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."  
  
Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line  
Beauty walks a razor's edge; someday I'll make it mine.  
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.  
"Come in," she said,  
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."_

After she sang, she stood, silently, looking down at his body, lifeless and unmoving. He had taught her everything she needed to know, in a few simple nights together. And she had learned more than she ever needed to know. Still in shock she walked away, her feet fighting to move. She got in her car and drove away, numbly, she made it to her house, slammed the door. And that is when all hell broke loose. It started with a trembling chin, then a tear, before she knew it she was sobbing hysterically. Running threw her house, gathering a duffle bag with clothes and a few personal items. She climbed back into her car and drove, she drove and drove. She drove threw the impending night, she drove threw the morning and on into the afternoon. It was only the dusk that brought her back.

She found herself sitting in her car, parked on the side of the road, cars whizzing by. It was like she woke from a dream. Looking around confused, she had no idea where she was or how she got there. She looked down at the passenger seat, a duffle bag sat untouched. Where was she? She thought to herself in a panic. Suddenly her breathing grew rapid and she struggled to calm herself. Slowly she stared the car and drove forward, to find the nearest gas station.

She pulled up at the Seven eleven, pulling her wallet out of her purse and casually getting out of her car. A couple of truckers whistled wolfishly at her.

"Excuse me." She asked the cashier in a hallow, subtle voice, barely audible.

"Yes Honey?" the middle aged woman responded, stroking Jordan on the arm in a mother bear type way.

"Where am I?" Jordan asked in the same hushed tone.

"Honey your in Wiltshire Massachusetts about eighty miles outside of Boston... Sweetheart are you okay? Do you need a doctor or anything?" the woman's concern touched Jordan, but she was too confused to know what was going on really. She shook her head no.

"I am a doctor." After a moment of silence Jordan whispered "Can I have a pack of Marlboro lights please." Paying for the cigarettes she thanked the woman and sat down in her car. Pulling down the visor, she looked at herself. She was deathly pale, her eyes had dark, begrudging circles underneath them. She was wearing a white baggy sweatshirt and jeans, her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She looked like death itself. Noticing a payphone she climbed out of her car and stumbled over to it. Slowly slipping a couple of quarters into the slot dialed a familiar number.

"This is Nigel." A familiar voice said, she breathed out in relief; she was yearning for something familiar.

"Nigel." She whispered her voice cracking.

"Jordan!" he exclaimed "Where are you? Are you okay?" she could feel her hands shaking, it caused the phone to shake violently.

"I'm fine." She mumbled, "I'm in Wiltshire, do you know where that is?" she asked scanning the parking lot.

"Yes Love, do you want me to come get you?" he asked, relief and concern laced his voice.

"Please." Nigel could feel his heart break at the sound of her voice crack; she was on the verve of tears.

"Alright where are you, I'll pick you up, don't move." He stated morosely

"I'm at the seven eleven on Commonwealth and Main." She muttered. He copied it down and promised to be there quick, when something popped into her head, a vision of him, a man, slumped on the floor, of Woody.

"Nigel, is Woody okay." His pause was all she needed to hear. She set the phone down gently on its cradle and slid to the grimy sidewalk. She began to rock back and forth, humming to herself. Closing her eyes, she was so numb she could barely remember what happened, she could only remember his eyes.

How clouded they were.

She hadn't eaten in close to three days, her stomach growled loudly, yet she knew if she ate she would be sick, her tummy was already twisted into knots.

It seemed an eternity before Nigel arrived, and she didn't even see him or Bug. But they were there; Nigel carried her to the car and gently drove away, while Bug drove her car home. She could only stare dazedly out the window.

The next thing she remembered was feeling warmth, like she was being wrapped in blankets. Then Screaming.

All she could think was who was that poor creature who sounds like there skin was being ripped off. Suddenly she was being shaken by Nigel; he began to rock her softly, rubbing circles into her back.

"Shh, its okay, it was only a dream." Those words were the thing that brought her back to reality. She was the one screaming. For the first time she said in a clear voice.

"Nigel What happened to Woody?" he paused but told her.

"Woody killed himself Love, with a prescription sleep aid... Woody's dead." His voice was soothing, but something in her relented.

"He's dead?" she asked in a far off voice.

"You found him."

"I did?" she asked hazily as bits and fragments of her memory came back.

"Yah, love, he left this for you." He handed her an envelope, it was thin and wrinkled, but still his handwriting on the front was as Bold and strong as he was. She passed it threw her hands several times before opening it, they were the words she needed to hear, he knew exactly what to say. Slowly she read them out loud, her voice shuddering

_Remember, until we meet again,_

_Awake with the dawn_

_Love Forever, Woody_

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Three days later they held his funeral, it was simple, not that of an officer that died in the line of duty, there was no grand parade, not hero's goodbye. In the end, only Jordan, Nigel, Garret, Bug, Lily and Devan had showed up, besides Annie Capra and a few other detectives, his brother also came. Each held a red rose as his simple casket was lowered into the rich, cocoa earth. His family had paid for his funeral, but refused to come, they said he had turned his back on his family the day he moved to Boston. So, Jordan guessed, they turned their back on him. Suddenly she looked to the sky, the grey clouds parted and she saw the dusky sky. She closed her eyes and smiled faintly.

The earth was frozen, the sky painted pastel blue and pink. Snow blanketed the earth. Not a bird chirped, everything seemed quiet and peaceful. The cemetery seemed to go on forever. Jordan always wondered what kept Woody coming back, what kept him with her. She guessed it lived and died with him. The frosty wind blew up, reminding her of there last night together; he said he'd see her again. That he'd see her later. She'd be waiting for later for the rest of her life. He let go of life before his time, but his legacy would remain ageless.

The granite headstone was polished and lacquered; it looked immortal from the elements. As each one of them dropped a handful of dirt into the large hole in which they laid his tired body. She kneeled and whispered ever so softly into it. Something Garret and the others would never hear escape from her lips again, "I love you Woody." It had taken her so long to say those words, now they seemed weightless and vacant. She wondered if he could hear her, if he thought about her before his eyes dulled over and he drew in his last breath. She would probably always blame herself for his death, even if she had known it wasn't. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Jordan, he was a fine cop... but he was burnt out, there was nothing you could do." Garret consoled. She patted his hand that rested on her shoulder.

"I know." She looked up at the sky, the feeling of hopelessness suddenly changed; there was some air of aspiration in that dusky sky. Life goes on, her chin trembled softly, but she didn't cry, he wouldn't want her to, peace suddenly washed over her. He was right, as he had said once; doing the right thing was as hard as walking across Egypt

"Jordan?" Lily asked as they all stood behind her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting for that still moment." She responded softly, she somehow knew he'd always be there, waiting for her, just beyond that horizon.

_**Fin**_

8


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